


Commander and Defender

by britomart



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora Needs Therapy (She-Ra), Anxiety Attacks, Catra Needs Therapy (She-Ra), Cunnilingus, Dom Catra (She-Ra), Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Lesbian Adora (She-Ra), Lesbian Catra (She-Ra), Let Catra (She-Ra) Say Fuck, Light BDSM, Light Masochism, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Princess Prom (She-Ra), Sexual Fantasy, Sub Adora (She-Ra)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britomart/pseuds/britomart
Summary: *Published initially under the title of "Supernova." That's now the title of the first chapter.Due to an unfortunate diplomatic incident, Catra has been away from Etheria for months and will be late to Scorpia's first ball. Once she does arrive, will she have enough self control to (temporarily) keep her hands off Adora? Or will she give in to the gnawing urge to reclaim what's hers before the party ends?
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 76
Kudos: 400





	1. Supernova

**Author's Note:**

> In season 1, we learn that Princess Prom happens once a decade. All five seasons of She-Ra encompass roughly three years. Therefore, according to math, Scorpia's first ball occurs seven years after "Heart: Part 2." (Entrapta would be so proud of me!)
> 
> This story is aligned with my post season-5 continuation fic, "Love Conquers All," and it includes a few minor references to that story. But, it can also be read alone.
> 
> P.S. In the original She-Ra franchise, Catra is from the planet of Purrsia. In my head canon, Purrsia is one of the plants the Squad encounters on their mission to bring magic back to the universe. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Catra's ship draws closer to Etheria, Glimmer and Adora prepare for Scorpia's first ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's been so lonely without you here  
> Like a bird without a song"  
> \- Sinead O'Connor, "Nothing Compares 2U"

Adora slid the dress over her head, enjoying the cool slide of silk against her skin. She shrugged, settling it in place, then looked at her reflection. Perfect—the precise replica of what she had imagined all those years ago. A flare of anxiety compelled her to blink once, then again. Relief trickled through her when the mirror didn’t flicker. The past seven years hadn’t been a lie. This wasn’t a dream or a desperate hope, manifesting in her mind while the magic of the Heart ate her alive.

This was reality. They were about to attend Scorpia’s first ball, and everyone would be there since Scorpia couldn’t bear the thought of excluding any of her non-princess friends. Adora smiled and was relieved to see the mirror parroting back her expression. Making changes to the etiquette of Princess Prom—flying in the face of centuries of tradition—took courage. Fortunately, Scorpia had courage in spades. Slowly but inexorably, this new generation of princesses was reshaping the future of Etheria into a kinder, gentler, more equitable world.

_There will be no future. Not for YOU._

When Adora shivered, Glimmer noticed. “Are you okay?”

“Better than okay.” Adora smiled, but even she could tell it looked a bit forced.

Eye shadow brush poised in the air, Glimmer met Adora’s gaze in the mirror. “Nope. Spill.”

Adora sighed. “Back when I was in the Heart… when I was unconscious because of Prime’s virus. I had a, um, vision.”

“What kind of vision?”

“I was in my room. Catra burst in and you were chasing her with a hairbrush. She wouldn’t let you touch her. She—she hid behind me and claimed you were trying to torture her.” Adora smiled at the memory.

Glimmer snorted. “Even I know better than to try to comb Catra’s mane.”

“I know. I mean, I know that _now._ But in the vision, Bow came in and told us we were at risk of being late to Scorpia’s first ball, and then Prime showed up to ruin everything as usual…” Adora trailed off. “Anyway. That’s where I got the idea for this dress.”

“So _that’s_ why you were so adamant with the tailor! And here I thought you’d started actually caring about fashion.”

Glimmer had indeed been beyond ecstatic at the level of interest Adora had taken in her outfit for the ball. She had even scheduled them a spa day in Mystacor that involved all manner of primping and preening. The worst part was the faun woman who had taken a set of tweezers to Adora’s eyebrows. And Catra had been on the other side of the known universe, unable to rescue her.

Never again would Adora agree to such torture.

Never.

Ever.

Again.

But she was finished with that madness now, and the dress _was_ perfect. Her hair was perfect too, even though Glimmer had pushed hard for her to wear it up. Adora was proud of herself for resisting the pressure. By now, she associated anything remotely close to a ponytail with being “on the job,” and she wanted to at least _try_ to relax tonight. Besides, Catra loved running her fingers through her hair when it was down, teasing the strands apart between her claws as she tugged lightly at Adora’s scalp…

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted Adora’s really quite pleasant reverie. Worse yet, she could feel herself starting to blush.

“Etheria to Adora. Come in, Adora.”

“Just stop.”

“What were you thinking about? Or should I say, _who?”_

“It’s ‘whom,’ technically,” Adora retorted, feeling the heat spread down her neck. She-Ra could heal people on the brink of death and lift tanks and conjure startlingly powerful swirls of rainbow magic, but she couldn’t hold back a stupid blush? What good was magic, anyway?

Glimmer made a rude noise and returned to her eye shadow. “You and Catra are sickening when you’re together, and you’re even worse when you’re apart.”

“Have you even seen yourself with Bow?”

“Bow and I have _never_ made out in public.”

Okay. That was actually fair. Bow was squeamish about public displays of affection that went beyond hand-holding, though apparently he was quite solicitous in private. Adora knew details she wished she didn’t, mostly because Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon was surprisingly susceptible to rum. Adora had vivid memories of that particular girls’ night out, during which Mermista and Glimmer had faced off across a pitted driftwood table for the “flaming shot challenge.” She also remembered a giggling Glimmer leaning heavily against her shoulder, telling her all about Bow’s prowess between hiccups. Glimmer, by contrast, had no memory of the evening beyond arriving at the underwater bar.

“Making out in public is not a crime,” Adora said.

“I have the power to change that within the jurisdiction of Bright Moon.”

“Fine, then. Catra and I will move back to the Fright Zone.”

Glimmer wagged a finger in her face. “Skeria. How many times do I have to remind you?”

“Right! Right.” Adora pinched the bridge of her nose. “I keep forgetting.”

“Hey.” Glimmer touched her shoulder, all trace of sarcasm gone from her voice. “I know it was your home, too.”

“Well… yes.” Adora had to confront the truth of that statement. “But that doesn’t change the fact that the Horde stole it from Scorpia. I’m glad she reclaimed it. And renamed it.”

Silence fell between them, then. Glimmer returned to her make-up, while Adora needlessly played with the width of her tiara. It was the only part of She-Ra’s outfit that she would be wearing tonight. The small bursts of magical energy required to resize it temporarily distracted her from the fact that Catra wasn’t home yet. And of course she wasn’t—a supernova had forced her ship to make a rather dramatic course adjustment, which was a _v_ ery good thing for the longevity of both the ship and Catra—but even so, Adora felt unaccountably bereft at the idea of having to attend Scorpia’s first ball alone.

Alone. Right. Because literally all her friends in the universe—with just one exception—would be there. Then again, that exception was her lawfully wedded wife, whom she hadn’t seen in months thanks to an embarrassing diplomatic incident caused by the _now very much former_ Etherian ambassador to Purrsia. If Adora was honest, she sometimes harbored violent feelings toward that particular individual. Good thing for him to have fled into the unknown reaches of the galaxy after seducing the planet’s crown princess. Bad thing for Adora, because Catra was the only logical choice to smooth things over with the legitimately ruffled Purrsian aristocracy.

“Okay, the tension is radiating off you in waves. What’s going on?” Glimmer stepped closer and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Have you checked in with Serafine recently?”

Adora shook her head and looked down at her toes. “I’m… afraid to know how bad it is.”

“Oh, you.” Glimmer squeezed once, then released her. “Serafine. What’s the ETA of the Cat’s Claw?”

“Greetings, Queen Glimmer.” Serafine’s slightly metallic voice permeated the room. “The Cat’s Claw is currently slated to land at the Bright Moon Space Port in 52 minutes, 56 seconds.”

“There, see? She’s less than an hour away.”

“If we wait, we’ll be late. And you know we can’t be.” Adora’s vision from the Heart might not be coming true tonight, but the central premise remained accurate: to be late to Scorpia’s first ball would devastate her, and devastating Scorpia was something she planned to avoid at all costs.

“ _We_ will get to Princess Prom on time,” Glimmer said. “Serafine will tell me as soon as Catra’s ready and I’ll teleport back for her. Won’t you, Serafine?”

“Of course, Queen Glimmer.”

It was the perfect solution, but Adora couldn’t help but feel bad for making Glimmer go out of her way. “Are you sure? I don’t—”

“Shut up right now. Problem solved. And Catra will love making a dramatic entrance.”

Adora laughed weakly. “You called her that in my vision, too. ‘Dramatic.’”

Glimmer snorted. “That should be her middle name.”

“Maybe, but her actual middle name is—”

The door opened to admit Bow, absently adjusting the lapels on his jacket. “Thankfully, they were able to get the frosting stain out of the—oh, wow. Glimmer. You look _amazing._ ”

Glimmer beamed and blushed and teleported to him for a kiss. Adora averted her eyes and tried not to be jealous. Had she ever gone this long without a kiss in all her life? Well, okay, scratch that—since her very first kiss, which incidentally had saved the universe? The answer was an emphatic _no._ She was just not meant to live without kisses. And now that Catra was almost home, Adora wanted nothing more than to wait for her in their room, naked on top of the bed, because Catra loved it when she pushed through her natural bashfulness to make herself vulnerable. Catra would flash that sinful, predatory smile—one fang bared, tongue curling around its tip—and Adora would become a melty mess. She would tell Catra how much she loved her, how much she had missed her, but Catra would cross the room in a single, graceful leap to clamp one hand over her mouth. The other would slide between her legs, two fingers pushing inside without preamble, and Adora would relish the sting of being stretched open after months of emptiness. Catra had her rules, after all.

“ _Adora!_ ” Bow sounded exasperated. “Have you even heard a word I’ve said?”

“A certain someone’s ship will be landing soon,” Glimmer said. “She’s a teensy bit distracted.”

Bow frowned. “But you’re still coming to Prom, right? You and Catra both?”

“Yes, they’re coming!” Glimmer’s voice was shrill. Adora hoped she was right, but not the way Glimmer meant it. “I will teleport Catra to the ball, and then you will both stay there for the entire duration of the party, and I will _not_ catch you sneaking off to some hideout you discovered as traumatized children and have decided to rechristen as—well. Right?”

Adora could feel her blush blushing. “Right! Everything you said. We will do.” When Glimmer’s brow contracted, she realized her mistake. “Um, except that last part, which we will _not_ do.” Though, honestly? It sounded very appealing. She cleared her throat. “By the way, Bow, you look so dapper!”

“Aww, Adora.” He slung one arm around her shoulders. “Thanks. I love your dress.”

“Ready to go?” Glimmer asked.

“Wait a second. I need to leave a note for Catra for when she gets home.” Adora went to Glimmer’s desk. “Where are your pens?”

Glimmer tapped her foot. “Serafine will tell Catra the plan.”

Adora squared her shoulders and tightened her jaw. “She’s been gone for 98 days. She deserves a note!”

“Fine. Second drawer on the left. But make it snappy.”

Of course, when Adora finished the message and turned back to them, they were snuggling. Glimmer had her face pressed to Bow’s neck, and he was stroking her back, and Adora honestly wasn’t sure she could make it for fifty more minutes without holding Catra and being held in return. Which was a pathetic thought that she would keep to herself. Giving Bow and Glimmer a wide berth, she stepped outside the door and handed the slip of paper to the nearest guard.

“Can you get that to the Space Port? Catra needs to see it as soon as she lands in less than an hour.”

“Of course, She-Ra.” The guard saluted and spun sharply on their heel.

There were, Adora reflected as she re-entered the room, some definite perks to having saved the world. Oral sex was at the top of her list, followed by that thing Catra sometimes did with her fingers. But good service was up there, too. Adora didn’t ever want to take for granted the fact that people jumped whenever she asked them to do something. Did she really still deserve it? It had been _seven years,_ after all.

As she shut the door behind her, Glimmer decoupled from Bow and held out her hands. “Now can we go?”

“Princess Prom!” Bow shouted, his free hand raised in a fist-pump.

As Adora’s fingers touched Glimmer’s, the world disappeared.

*

Catra sat in the captain’s chair and watched Etheria grow larger on the viewscreen. Her tail lashed the air, and with each finger twitch, her claws grated harshly against the armrests. She should have been home a week ago, and now she was going to be late to Scorpia’s first ball. Normally, Catra could give a flying fuck about being late. But even after seven years of trying really damned hard to be a good friend, she didn’t like letting Scorpia down.

And then, of course, there was Adora.

This was the longest they had gone without seeing each other since the bad old days, and the separation was bringing up some feelings that Catra would just as soon keep buried. When the supernova had forced her into a massive course correction, she locked herself in the gym for three hours, most of which had been spent beating up a heavy bag. She had only emerged when her desire to murder something faded from a desperate need to a background itch. Since then, sleep had been a precious commodity, purchased only with exhaustion and orgasm.

Speaking of which: what better way to pass the time? She slumped in the chair and spread her thighs as far she could, then dipped one hand beneath the waistband of her leggings. Yes, she was going to be late. But surely, Adora had made (and set in motion) a contingency plan. Catra could picture exactly where her tux was hanging in their closet. It wouldn’t take long to get ready. And, if she were being honest, there was a certain satisfaction to be gained from waltzing into the ball after everyone else had arrived. She would literally sweep Adora off her feet, subject herself to one of Scorpia’s rib-cracking hugs, and then... Catra grimaced. Dragging Adora off to the nearest dark corner would probably look bad, right? They would have to behave themselves for hours. Hours and hours. Ugh. The burn in her abdomen increased in urgency. At this point, masturbating was practically a public service. How else could she be expected to remain civil in public when it had been _months_ since the last time she ravished Adora?

Slowly, Catra pushed her fingers down until she encountered the silky fur at the apex of her thighs. She wondered what Adora would be wearing: probably that red dress she used for any fancy event. Sadly, it was a rather conservative dress, but Catra knew well enough what was beneath it, and she allowed her memory to conjure up a few favorite images: Adora, bent over the edge of their bed as Catra pushed her into the mattress with one hand while fucking her with the other; Adora, dress rucked up above one breast (but somehow not the other), fingers scrabbling against the back of Catra’s head as she licked her into oblivion; Adora, wrists bound and secured to the headboard, face contorted in exquisite pleasure cut with a hint of discomfort as Catra slowly, inexorably, pushed their strap-on toy inside her.

Catra stroked herself lazily, remembering Adora’s gasps and stuttered sighs and low, tortured moans. They had learned quite a lot about themselves over the past seven years. When Catra thought back to their first, fumbling attempts at intimacy in the weeks after the Heart, she had to smile. They had been almost entirely ignorant, and each new discovery had been sweet and awkward. But taking a crash course in sex education—who knew the Bright Moon library could be so _interesting_?—and traveling the length and breadth of the universe had taught them quite a lot. Over time, Catra began to realize just how much she enjoyed being in charge in the bedroom. Sexual dominance was, it turned out, the perfect channel for her more feral urges. And Adora? Adora had learned that she loved taking everything Catra wanted to dish out.

Catra dipped her fingertips into the gathering wetness. She imagined Adora, naked and on her knees, tongue whispering across the tip of Catra’s clit. When it throbbed beneath her fingertips, she released a long sigh and closed her eyes. She _would_ have Adora’s mouth tonight. And then, she was going to take her sweet time reclaiming Adora, inch by inch. It was going to take hours, and she was not always going to be gentle.

But Adora didn’t always want gentle. Learning that had been a challenge for them both. In the early days of their relationship, Catra had been terrified of hurting Adora yet again, after so many years spent deliberately causing her pain. It had taken a lot of time, a few rough patches, and more processing than Catra cared to remember before she had finally started to feel comfortable with hurting Adora for their mutual pleasure.

Adora’s hang-ups had been of a different order. A few months after saving the world, she had been beset upon by anxiety, including crushing panic attacks that incapacitated her for hours at a time. Perfuma’s patient, insightful advice had helped save the day, leading to Catra’s resolve to never make fun of her again. But something else that helped was Catra, pinning Adora down in bed; Catra, closing her hands around Adora’s throat; Catra, scratching lines of fire down Adora’s back while Adora moaned into the sheets. Together, they had learned that when the corrosive dread began eating Adora alive, sometimes the best remedy involved her deliberately giving up control. When Catra helped her focus on physical sensations, mingling pleasure and consensual pain to maximize their intensity, the anxiety often dissolved.

Catra was proud of that, and also humbled by it. Adora, who had healed her and so many others—not to mention the entire planet—needed _her._ Adora was far more comfortable with being needed than needing others, and she still struggled with self-care. Before Catra had left for Purrsia, she had made Adora promise she would meet with Perfuma each week while she was gone. Talking things out was important—even Catra could admit that now. But in Adora’s case, it wasn’t enough. She needed muscle memory to learn any important lesson. She needed touch. And tonight, after far too long, Catra was going to take care of her the way she had been born to do. She would give Adora everything she needed—everything and more.

Catra swirled two fingers around her clit, faster and faster. She imagined Adora between her thighs, alternating the pulls of her lips with strokes of her tongue. The growing outline of Etheria blurred in her vision as orgasm approached. For one long, agonizing moment, she thought it might be out of reach—

—And then she remembered the first time Adora ever said “I love you,” and the world dissolved into wet heat and rainbow fragments and harsh gasps.

_Adora._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, I know there is a lot of debate out there about who is dominant and who is submissive. The byproducts of this debate have been so much fun to read. :) However, I've never had any doubt that Catra is mostly dominant. Adora has a strong moral compass and a deeply ingrained sense of responsibility, but she is also an oblivious, people-pleasing idiot. Catra explicitly states in season 2 that she wants to "control" Adora, and fortunately, there are healthy ways for her to express that desire. ;) Catra also initiated the kiss. Can she switch sometimes? Absolutely. I do think She-Ra is 150% dominant (and a top) and that Catra occasionally enjoys being ravished. But generally? Catra is in the driver's seat, in my opinion. Which is how I've written her. <3
> 
> Also, my head canon is that both Catra and Adora have PTSD in the wake of the finale. Catra's nightmares and guilt are already a part of the show, but I think Adora is likely to suffer from anxiety. Seasons 4 and 5 together are incredibly intense: she realizes that she's a weapon; finds the strength to break the sword, which also temporarily shatters her identity; regains her power but inconsistently; and makes the decision to sacrifice herself. That's a lot of trauma, and it will be compounded with the stress of being uncertain about her purpose/role in a world thats not defined by war anymore.


	2. Stupid Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Catra took a few quick steps to the side to get a better angle. Adora was not, in fact, wearing the red dress. She was wearing a dress Catra had never seen before: a long, flowing white gown with a short train, accented with gold. Its straps were thin, revealing the delicate architecture of her clavicles, and the neckline plunged far deeper than anything Adora had ever worn in the past. Catra felt her mouth start to water. She wanted to cover every inch of that pale skin with bruising nips and kisses, then forbid Adora to heal them."
> 
> In which Adora is distracted by Catra's imminent return to Etheria. Catra finally lands. A long-awaited reunion ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You're the one that I've been waiting for  
> Gotta quit this cryin'  
> Nobody's gonna heal me if I don't open the door"  
> \- Lady Gaga, "Stupid Love"
> 
> This contains a spoiler for Chapter 12 of "Love Conquers All."

The Scorpid Palace of Skeria was festooned with flowers of all shapes and sizes. Tastefully color-coordinated, they hung from most available surfaces: the balustrades, the towers, the balconies, and even the flying buttresses.

“Do you think Perfuma has been here?” Glimmer said dryly.

“It seems pretty obvi—oh.” Adora blinked. “That was sarcasm.”

“I’m impressed.” Glimmer gave her a thumbs-up. “You picked up on it pretty fast, relatively speaking.”

“Stop patronizing me!”

“Stop being so patronizable!”

Bow cleared his throat. “Do you want to go in, or would you rather stand out here bickering? And Adora, just in case you’re feeling stubborn, I’d like to remind you of all the food waiting to be eaten on the _inside_ of the palace.”

Adora knew the promise of food should have been enticing. It wasn’t, but she didn’t want Bow to know that. “Fine. Let’s go.”

They had their invitations just in case, but the palace doors were open, and the two guards standing at attention had flower wreathes around their necks. Adora raised a salute automatically as they drew level.

“Welcome, She-Ra. Queen Glimmer. Prince Bow.”

This was a far cry from the reception they had received at Frosta’s palace ten years ago. Adora could still distinctly remember wrestling with the enforcer at the weapons’ check, insisting that he not damage her sword. In hindsight, if only he _had_ : destroying the sword back then would have saved them all a tremendous amount of heartbreak _._

But then Etheria would still be in Despondos, its magic locked away from the universe. And she and Catra might still be fighting.

As they entered the palace atrium, Adora shook her head in an attempt to dispel the melancholy thoughts. Impossibly, she and Catra had found their way back to each other. And in the years after Prime’s defeat, they had planted seeds of the Heart’s magic across the galaxy, forging numerous alliances along the way. They had made a few enemies too, of course, but that was only to be expected. Not everyone wanted to share magic—Adora knew that all too well.

The doors to the Great Hall were also open, music filtering across the threshold. There was a short line to the herald, but it melted away when they were recognized.

“Wait!” Adora called after a Salinean couple who stepped out of the queue to cede their position to the heroes of Etheria. “You don’t have to—”

“Relax.” Glimmer linked her arm with Adora’s. “Let them tell the story of how they allowed She-Ra to cut them in line at Princess Prom to their children and their children’s children.”

On her other side, Bow snorted. The herald took a deep breath.

“Queen Glimmer of Bright Moon and Bow, Prince Consort! Adora, the She-Ra, Defender of Etheria!”

A murmur went up through the cavernous hall, like bees humming in their hive. Adora plastered on what she hoped was a cheerful smile and did her best to meet the eyes of everyone she passed. For some reason, the people of Etheria still craved She-Ra’s acknowledgement of their own existence. If that made them feel better, who was Adora to refuse?

The humanoid gauntlet ended just before a set of translucent stairs leading up to a dais. It held a massive throne, sharp obsidian edges protruding into the air. Adora suddenly flashed back to Horde Prime as she and Perfuma had found him in the Fright Zone: seated atop a very similar platform, smug in his assured victory. Scorpia had been there, too: eyes a putrid green, shoulders incandescent with a jagged aura of crimson light.

Adora blinked, swallowing against a surge of panic. _No._ Scorpia was seated before them, practically vibrating in her enthusiasm. The throne was spiky because _she_ was spiky. It wasn’t sinister. Scorpia wasn’t evil. And Prime was long, long gone.

_Good riddance._

The sound of Catra’s voice, even if it was entirely a product of her memory, helped Adora regain her equilibrium. As Glimmer swept into a curtsy, Adora remembered herself and bent at the waist. _Whew._

“Revered Hostess.” Glimmer smiled at Scorpia, who positively beamed back. “We come into your hall under the ancient rules of hospitality, bringing greetings from Bright Moon.”

Silence fell. Adora was pretty sure someone was supposed to be talking, but she couldn’t remember who. Until Glimmer cleared her throat.

“And, uh, She-Ra!” she blurted.

“The legendary warrior,” Glimmer added, clearly annoyed.

Adora refused to look in her direction. Everyone knew who She-Ra was now, so the whole “legendary warrior” bit was completely unnecessary. Not to mention the fact that it was patently absurd to refer to _oneself_ that way. Glimmer could just deal.

“But where’s our Wildcat?” Scorpia asked, brow contracted. “Still not back?”

“Landing soon,” Adora said briskly. “Don’t worry. She’ll be here.”

“Well in that case: you are welcome in the Kingdom of Skeria, under the ancient rules of hospitality,” Scorpia enthused. “Leave conflict at the door. Also, I am _so glad_ to see you guys!”

Abandoning even the pretense of decorum, she jumped to her feet and enveloped all three of them in a crushing embrace. Adora found her cheek squashed against Bow’s shoulder, and Glimmer’s elbow was digging into her side, but she didn’t have to pretend to laugh. Scorpia’s hugs always made her feel better, even if sometimes they also resulted in minor bruising.

“Can you believe how many people are here?” Scorpia said as she released them. “Once I’m done with all the greeting, I’ll come find you!”

It was a relief to leave the dais voluntarily instead of being forcibly ejected as she had been in the Kingdom of Snows. As they descended the stairs, Bow pointed out Mermista, Sea Hawk, Perfuma, and Frosta all clustered around the chocolate fountain.

“It has _three levels,_ ” Bow breathed, awe saturating his voice.

Glimmer laughed and kissed his cheek. “Let’s go claim some marshmallows before they run out.”

Adora trailed in the wake of their enthusiasm. Obstinacy blocked her from consulting the ornate, pearl-faced clock hanging on the far wall. Catra would get her note when she landed. She would hurry. They would be together soon, so soon. She didn’t have to worry. Everything was fine—or at least, it would be. She could relax. She _should_ relax.

A cacophony of high-pitched squeals suddenly filled the air, followed by the sounds of tiny feet skittering across the floor. Adora was facing Perfuma and watched her sink to her knees, arms open, a gentle smile blooming across her face. Moments later, three chubby Scorpid children ran into her embrace. A fourth and fifth grabbed Bow’s legs, and a sixth reached up to grasp Glimmer’s hand. When Adora felt a tug on the hem of her dress, she looked down. Hope, the smallest of Scorpia and Perfuma’s children, had one pincer closed around the fabric. The other was in her mouth. She stared up with round, dark eyes.

Adora dropped into a crouch. “Hi, Hope. Do you like my gown?”

Hope nodded solemnly. Adora reached out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. When her fingers made contact with Hope’s scalp, she released a tiny pulse of magic, searching out any illness. Hope would have died at birth if not for She-Ra’s healing powers, and Adora had felt especially protective of her ever since.

“Tickles!” Hope pronounced.

Adora widened her eyes. “Tickles? You want tickles?”

Hope might have been smaller than her siblings, but her lungs were perfectly developed. The shrieks rose up to the rafters, finally summoning Scorpia herself.

“Who is interrupting my ball with this racket?” she boomed, grinning widely as she rescued Hope and joined Perfuma.

As they shared a kiss, another of their brood scrambled up Scorpia’s back and wrapped both pincers around her neck. For a while, everyone oooh’d and aaah’d over the babies. Cute as they were, Adora found her attention drifting. When she finally gave in to the pull of the clock, she couldn’t hold back a sigh. There were still fifteen minutes left until the Cat’s Claw landed. Why did time pass so horrifically slowly?

The mention of her name yanked Adora’s attention back to reality.

“And good luck trying to hold a conversation with her,” Glimmer was saying. “Commander Hotpants’s ship will land in a matter of minutes, and she’s a pining disaster.”

“Hey! I _am_ making a real effort here,” Adora halfheartedly insisted.

Bow shot Glimmer a quizzical look. “You think Catra’s pants are hot?”

“Who doesn’t?” Scorpia laughed heartily. “I mean, c’mon.”

“It’s true,” Perfuma chimed in. “It is a truth universally acknowledged.”

Glimmer shrugged. “See?”

“ _Universally_ seems like you’re carrying this too far,” Mermista said. “I personally prefer the fit of Sea Hawk’s pants.”

“Heresy!” Perfuma gasped.

“Ugh. Fine. I will be the lone voice of dissent.”

“Do you know when my pants are _especially_ hot?” Sea Hawk said conspiratorially. “When I light them—”

“—on fire,” everyone else chorused before he could arrive at the punch line.

“Hrmph. Am I truly that predictable?”

“Yes,” said Frosta. “And did you seriously torch your own pants?”

“Only the once! It was a… memorable occasion.”

Mermista snorted. “You are _not_ telling that story until these kids are asleep.”

“Hear that, kids?” Scorpia said. “It’s bedtime!”

Adora had to smile at the chorus of groans. When a rather harried-looking satyr woman stepped forward to shepherd the children out of the party, Adora waved good-bye to Hope.

“Is she okay?” Perfuma asked quietly.

Adora nodded. “She’s great. Perfect.”

“Thank you,” Perfuma said, and Adora knew she wasn’t referring to the compliment. “How are _you_?”

“I’m fi—” Adora bit back the word when Perfuma’s eyes started to narrow. For years now, they had been working on Adora’s instinct to immediately deflect any question about her own wellbeing. “I’m holding up. Eager for Catra to get home.”

Perfuma squeezed her hand. “I know the waiting is difficult, but she’ll be here before you know it.”

Adora glanced up at the clock again. Twelve minutes. “Yep.”

Perfuma went back to Scorpia then, leaving Adora on the outskirts of the group. That was fine. She’d rather not have to make conversation, anyway. Instead, she could daydream about taking _off_ Catra’s pants. Hearing how everyone else felt about them had only amplified her urgency.

*

Catra engaged the automatic landing sequence on the Cat’s Claw, grabbed her knapsack, and went to the hold. She stood before the doors, balancing lightly on her toes as the Claw settled onto Etherian soil.

“Fucking finally,” she growled.

With a hiss, the door opened. She might have been tempted to sprint down the ramp, were it not for the presence of a guard at its foot. She settled for sauntering. Briskly.

“Commander.” The guard saluted crisply. “I was sent to deliver this.”

Catra took the slip of paper and flicked it open.

_I love you. I miss ~~ed~~ you. Get changed for the ball and tell Serafine when you’re ready. Glimmer will teleport you._

_Hurry._

_Love, A_

Catra tucked the paper into her jacket pocket. “I need your fastest ride to the palace.”

“Of course, Commander. Take any skiff you’d like from the hangar.” The woman smiled. “I’d choose the red one. It’s the newest model.”

“Remind me to promote you,” Catra said, already walking away.

The hangar was only a few hundred feet in the distance, but by the time she set foot inside, Catra was so keyed up she wanted to hit something. Instead, she swung one leg over the skiff, leaned down to activate the retinal scanner, and peeled out with a metallic screech. The guard’s recommendation had been sound: Entrapta was constantly upgrading the skiffs, and this model was her best work yet. Light and responsive, it pierced the air with a satisfying swiftness. The lavender fields that lay between the space port and civilization were just starting to bloom, and Catra pulled the comforting scent deep into her lungs. After weeks of space travel, she relished the sweet, pure air of Etheria. _Home_.

Hungrily, she watched the spires of the Bright Moon Palace grow larger. She guided the skiff well above the street traffic, then brought it down before the gates. They opened without challenge; clearly, the guard at the port had called ahead to let security know to expect her. She really did deserve that promotion, though at the moment, Catra had a few other, more urgent priorities to attend to.

Once inside the palace, Catra hurried to the room she shared with Adora. These days, they spent much more time in Dryl than in Bright Moon, but this place still felt like home. Once the door shut behind her, Catra paused, inhaling deeply. Adora’s scent permeated the space, and Catra didn’t even try to suppress her purr. Melog’s scent was prominent too. Hopefully, they had been a comfort to Adora. She had objected strongly to Catra leaving Melog behind, only giving in when Catra confessed that knowing Melog was on Etheria would be a comfort to her, too.

Catra went to the closet and retrieved her tux. She stripped efficiently, then began to dress. As she buttoned up her shirt, her gaze was drawn to the large canopy bed in the center of the room. Within a matter of hours, Adora would be lying naked on those sheets, pale skin slicked with sweat, begging Catra for release. Catra licked her lips at the mental image, then cursed as she realized she had skipped a button. In need of a distraction from her own fantasies, she cleared her throat.

“So, Serafine. How’s it hanging?”

“Greetings, Commander. Welcome home. No part of me is ‘hanging.’ I am embedded in the walls of Bright Moon Palace and of many other structures, as well as within most tracker pads created less than three years ago.”

“You sure are. Miss me?”

“I do not experience human emotion, Commander.”

“Once I would’ve considered you lucky,” Catra muttered.

“I did not catch that, Commander. Could you please repeat your words?”

“Never mind. Let’s talk about Adora instead. Any panic attacks while I was gone?”

“You will have to ask her yourself, Commander.” Serafine’s voice held a mild note of chastisement. “You know it is against my protocols to divulge details about another individual’s state of health.”

“Unless it’s an emergency.”

“There have been no personal health-related emergencies involving She-Ra over the past ninety-eight days.”

“Good. How about other kinds?”

“There was an earthquake in the Kingdom of Snows sixty-seven days ago that caused a landslide. She-Ra’s intervention was required to rescue the residents of a village in its path. All survived.”

“That’s my girl,” Catra muttered as she slid into her trousers. “Anything else?”

“Forty-three days ago, Sea Hawk sustained minor burns after setting fire to his latest vessel during Bow’s birthday celebration. She-Ra healed him.”

Catra snorted. “That’s hardly an emergency. Also, remind me to get Bow’s present from the Claw tomorrow.”

“I have created a notification on your calendar.”

Catra shrugged on her tux, the inspected her reflection critically, adjusting the set of her shirt before reaching for the bowtie. As she threaded it beneath the collar, her traitorous imagination conjured an image of Adora, flushed and naked to the waist as Catra slowly undressed her in front of the mirror. The thought inspired a frisson of heat that made her tail bristle, and she calmed it only with a concerted effort. Making Adora watch while she slowly stripped her wasn’t a half-bad idea.

“Speaking of my calendar: once Adora and I get back here tonight, we are on Delta level ‘Do Not Disturb’ until I tell you otherwise. Got it? I don’t want any interruptions unless the world is _literally_ ending _._ ”

“Yes, Commander.”

“You’re a pal, Serafine.”

“Actually, I am a voice-controlled, planet-wide personal assistant created by Princess Entrapta.”

“Don’t I know it. Contact Sparkles, will you? I’m ready.”

As she waited, Catra realized she was nervous. Scoffing at herself, she slid both hands into her pockets to avoid fiddling with her mane. She looked good— _damn_ good. And she’d only been away for a few months. Her relationship with Adora was plenty strong enough to handle a few months.

Wasn’t it?

Glimmer materialized in a shower of pink sparks, smiling broadly. “I’ve missed your face, Horde scum.”

“Shame I can’t say the same.” But Catra was grinning too, and she willingly stepped into Glimmer’s embrace.

A moment letter, Glimmer drew back, grasping her shoulders. “Let’s get you to this party. A certain someone is going out of her mind with impatience.”

“Yeah?”

Glimmer must have heard some note of insecurity in her voice— _damn it_ —because her fingers tightened. “What, did you seriously worry she was going to rethink your _life-long love affair_ in a matter of weeks?”

“Of course not!” Catra knew her vehemence was giving her away. And it wasn’t like she had _seriously_ considered it. Most of the time—ninety-nine percent of the time—she was supremely confident in Adora’s love. But the crushing voice of space was dark and empty, and it had brought back all the old doubt and disbelief that someone like Adora could ever love someone like _her._

“You two deserve each other,” Glimmer huffed.

By now, Catra was accustomed to the not-quite-wrenching sensation of teleporting. In the next instant, they were standing before a dais, on top of which stood Scorpia’s empty throne. Catra stepped back from Glimmer and looked around, heart pounding. She caught sight of Scorpia first, one arm around Perfuma, standing in a loose circle with Bow, Mermista, Sea Hawk, and Frosta. But Adora wasn’t with them. Where—

— _there._ She stood across the room, deep in conversation with Entrapta, whose hair was gesticulating wildly. Catra took a few quick steps to the side to get a better angle. Adora was not, in fact, wearing the red dress. She was wearing a dress Catra had never seen before: a long, flowing white gown with a short train, accented with gold. Its straps were thin, revealing the delicate architecture of her clavicles, and the neckline plunged far deeper than anything Adora had ever worn in the past. Catra felt her mouth start to water. She wanted to cover every inch of that pale skin with bruising nips and kisses, then forbid Adora to heal them.

Catra took one step forward, then another, stalking her prey. Adora. Adora was all she could see.

When Scorpia’s booming laugh filled the air, Catra faltered. She blinked, then shook her head. Right. Scorpia’s ball. There was that damned etiquette stuff to do, and the last thing she wanted was to make Scorpia feel disrespected on her big night. _Actually,_ the last thing she wanted to do was anything other than kiss Adora, but she was Good Catra now, and Good Catra was a good friend.

She took a deep breath, then released just a hint of the Roar. “Revered Hostess!”

Okay, maybe her self-control was not the best right now. The words thundered through the hall, rippling the air enough to send the torches guttering. The buzz of conversation died. _Well, fuck,_ she thought, swallowing hard. Now she had to put on a show.

“I come into your hall under the ancient rules of hospitality, bringing greetings.”

“Wildcat!” As Scorpia approached, Catra steeled herself for the hug. It was surprisingly gentle. “Welcome home. I’m _so_ glad you made it.”

“Me, too, Scorp. Me, too.”

Scorpia set her down carefully, then stepped back. “Catra, you are welcome in the Kingdom of Skeria, under the ancient rules of hospitality. Leave conflict at the door.” Her grin broadened. “And go kiss Adora, will you?”

Catra was pretty sure Scorpia had _intended_ to whisper that last part, but the words had emerged closer to a shout. As if that mattered—everyone would be watching them, anyway. She returned her gaze to Adora, only to find Adora looking back. Her eyes were wide and shining, and she was biting at her lower lip, and Catra _forced_ herself not to break into a run as she crossed the space between them.

She stopped only when her forehead was pressed to Adora’s, arms curling around her neck as Adora’s hands skated across the small of her back. As their breasts pressed together, Catra bit down on a groan. She inhaled deeply, filling herself with Adora’s scent as Adora’s hands traced the length of her spine. This. This was all she needed.

“Hey, Adora,” she murmured. The words caught a little in her throat, but she didn’t even care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Noelle's drawing of Scorpia and her babies, there are seven adorable little Scorpids. If you haven't seen it: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/h04ivu/scorpia_babies_with_babysitter_catra_from/
> 
> Stay tuned for smut in part 3...


	3. Physical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When Adora began to feel a little dizzy, she realized she hadn’t managed to breathe for several seconds. With a start, she inhaled deeply. Catra’s hair was shorter than it had been when she left, and Adora wondered who on Purrsia had cut it for her. The thought of another woman hovering over Catra, lightly touching her ears while trimming the hair around them, made Adora feel as though she had swallowed sparks."
> 
> In which Catra and Adora struggle to remain PG-13 during the ball, and the gang behaves in delightfully predictable ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Common love isn't for us  
> We created something phenomenal  
> Don't you agree?"  
> \- Dua Lipa, "Physical"
> 
> This contains a spoiler for Chapter 12 of "Love Conquers All."

Entrapta’s babbling was exactly what Adora needed: interesting enough to mostly hold her attention without requiring any feedback other than nods and the occasional “mmhmm.” In the years since Prime’s demise, Entrapta, Hordak, and many of the clones had converted Beast Island into a technological wonderland: part spaceship-yard, part communications hub, part laboratory. Entrapta was currently waxing eloquent about her team’s efforts to upgrade the network of superluminal transmitters, relayers, and receivers that formed the backbone of the galaxy-wide Interlink.

“Once we’ve fully tested this last prototype, we’ll be ready for production!” Entrapta’s hair reached out to snag a nearby hors d’oeuvre from a plate carried by one of the server-robots. “And then: _installation._ Ooh, the new network will be _so fast_!”

“The clones will need military escorts to upgrade most of the satellites,” Adora mused.

Entrapta cocked her head. “Are you in charge of that? Or Catra? This is one of those times when it’s confusing.”

Adora saw her point. The Interlink was primarily a civilian network, but it _did_ have military applications, and its satellites were periodically harassed by Etheria’s enemies. She was the Defender of Etheria, responsible for the planet’s wellbeing and for overseeing all humanitarian aid missions. Catra, as Commander of the Allied Etherian Forces, supervised all military operations. They lived together, managed the cadet training program together, and made all major strategic decisions together. Just as they had always planned. Just as they’d dreamt of, as children—with a few twists. Adora imagined traveling back in time and informing her adolescent self that she and Catra would both eventually defect to the Rebellion, fall in love, and get married. Not necessarily in that order.

Well-meaning but embarrassingly ignorant teenage Adora would probably accuse her of being a shapeshifting Rebellion spy and try to punch her lights out. Teenage Catra, on the other hand, might actually listen.

“Adora?” Entrapta’s hair poked her shoulder. “You got a little spacey.”

“Sorry.” Adora shook her head and tried to focus. “Catra, I think. I’ll bring it up to her. She should be back soo—”

“Revered Hostess!” The words reverberated through the air with physical force, sending the ends of Adora’s hair fluttering. Instinctively, her head jerked in the direction of the sound. The Roar. How many times had she heard it? In training simulations, on the battlefield, in cantankerous Council meetings. Even in bed, when she was in the mood to wrestle for control and Catra grew impatient. She-Ra _could_ stand against the Roar, of course. She had stood firm against much worse.

Adora just didn’t _want_ to.

Heart thudding against her ribs, she watched Scorpia envelop Catra in a hug that dangled her feet several inches off the floor. When Scorpia finally set her down and practically shouted that she should “go kiss Adora,” Adora wasn’t entirely sure of how to react. Part of her wanted to run across the room and throw her arms around Catra. The rest of her knew to stay perfectly still. Catra was moving toward her with deliberate strides, gaze dark and determined, confidence radiating like an aura.

When Adora began to feel a little dizzy, she realized she hadn’t managed to breathe for several seconds. With a start, she inhaled deeply. Catra’s hair was shorter than it had been when she left, and Adora wondered who on Purrsia had cut it for her. The thought of another woman hovering over Catra, lightly touching her ears while trimming the hair around them, made Adora feel as though she had swallowed sparks.

Ten feet separated them. Then five. And then Catra’s arms were curling around her neck, and her forehead was touching Adora’s, and everything was right in the world again. Adora allowed her hands to trace the contours of Catra’s back through her tuxedo jacket. Her breasts were separated from Catra’s by only a few layers of clothing, and the realization was like a match being struck.

“Hey, Adora,” Catra said.

The catch in her voice set fire to the fuel. Adora groaned quietly and kissed her, lips soft and tongue inquisitive, begging for entry along the seam of Catra’s mouth. Catra’s fingers clutched at her nape, one claw barely pricking her skin. At the tiny flash of almost-pain, Adora clutched at Catra, hips canting toward hers without conscious thought. When Catra’s mouth opened, Adora dared to steal inside, only to be greeted by the sharp edge of one fang in what was clearly a warning. She withdrew with a gasp. Over the thudding of her own heartbeat, she could dimly make out the cheers and claps and whistles from the crowd.

Right. Because they were in Scorpia’s palace. At Princess Prom. Not anywhere remotely near their bedroom. Which meant that she needed to be extra cognizant of her hips and her hands and her lips and every other body part so perfectly attuned to Catra.

“Hi,” she breathed, for once not caring about her blush. “I missed you.”

Catra arched one eyebrow. “So I gather.”

“Oh, stop,” Adora said and kissed her again: more chastely this time, but with no less love. Catra’s lips were firm but gentle, and her fingers were sliding through Adora’s hair, and she didn’t have to miss Catra anymore because Catra was finally _here._

The sudden shift of teleportation was accompanied by the really quite pleasant jolt of Catra digging her claws into Adora’s scalp—not hard enough to break the skin, but _just_ hard enough for every cell in Adora’s body to burst into flame. When Catra wrenched her lips away, Adora let out a whimper of disappointment. Oops. Fortunately, Glimmer had teleported them both into the midst of their friends, so her lapse wasn’t overheard by random Etherians under the misapprehension that Adora was not a complete marshmallow.

“What the hell, Sparkles!”

“It was for your own protection,” Glimmer shot back. “From yourselves.”

“Also, _HI!_ ” Bow shouted, and threw his arms around them both. While not quite as vigorous a hugger as Scorpia, Bow’s arm strength was impressive. Adora found herself smushed against Catra, who took advantage of the opportunity to unobtrusively nip at the skin above her collar bone as the others piled on. Adora shivered.

“All _right,_ ” Catra finally said, and even though she didn’t use the Roar, everyone eased up. Everyone except Adora, who snaked her arm around Catra’s waist and held her even tighter. “Hi, dorks. Missed you, too.”

“I missed you in your _dreams,”_ taunted Frosta.

“I can confidently say that you have never once visited my dreams, Snowflake.” As Frosta spluttered, Catra turned to Perfuma. “How are the kiddos?”

Firmly pressed to Catra’s side, Adora watched as she checked in with each of their friends. There was still plenty of posturing, but beneath the banter lay real respect and affection, and that made all the difference. Had it taken the better part of two years for Mermista to stop verbally sniping Catra at every opportunity? Yes. Did they now habitually join forces to snark at other people? Also yes.

The group only grew larger with time. Adora reluctantly let go of Catra long enough to allow her to hug Spinnerella properly. That friendship might have sprung out of shared trauma at having both been chipped by Prime, but it had evolved into something deeper. Spinny was, Catra had once confessed, the closest she’d ever get to having a real aunt. Even Netossa, who usually avoided displays of affection with anyone except her wife, gave Catra a quick shoulder squeeze.

“Let’s have a toast!” Scorpia exclaimed.

Adora turned to see her flanked by server robots, each holding a platter filled with champagne flutes. As Adora accepted a glass, she felt a sort of empathy with the joyously rioting bubbles inside. Smiling at the thought, she slid one arm around Catra again. Touching Catra hadn’t been something she took for granted since leaving the Fright Zone, and these past few months had only served to reinforce that lesson.

Scorpia raised her glass. “To Catra’s successful completion of her mission and her safe return!”

“Wait, how do we know her mission was successful?” Mermista asked, eyes narrowed.

“Because I wasn’t pursued by an armada of Purrsian warships,” Catra said dryly. “Everything’s fine. I’ll tell you all the details at the next Council meeting.” She raised her own glass. “A toast to Scorpia, for throwing one hell of a ball!”

As the others took up this praise, Scorpia blushed and stammered at the attention. “That was a nice touch,” Adora whispered.

“Scorpia deserves nice,” Catra said. She cocked her head, and the smile that spread across her face made Adora want to melt into the flagstones. “How about you, princess? What do you deserve?”

The question fairly simmered with heat, and Adora felt her face flame in reaction. But even as her body reacted, her mind rebelled. What _did_ she deserve? She wanted Catra above her, holding her down, pushing inside her. She wanted Catra to claim her, to mark her, to remind her she wasn’t alone. She wanted Catra to tell her she was good, and to mean it. But did she _deserve_ any of that? What if she didn’t? Anxiety trickled down her spine, cold water dousing the warmth.

The sensation of Catra’s lips against the delicate skin just below her ear roused her from the thought-spiral. “Hey. Adora. It’s all right. We’ll work on it together, yeah?”

Adora swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat. “Okay.”

“What’s up, lovebirds?” Lonnie appeared before them and promptly tried to put Catra into a headlock. She sidestepped the attempt fluidly without spilling a single drop of champagne. Adora had to appreciate her grace and dexterity; she would’ve probably spilled the contents all over herself.

“Try that again and you’ll look like Octavia,” Catra said, sounding bored. Behind Lonnie, Kyle blanched and Rogelio grunted.

“You know she doesn’t mean it,” Adora said. “And hi, guys. How are you doing?”

Finally, Catra professed herself starving for food that hadn’t originally been dehydrated, and they all descended upon the truly impressive buffet. Adora hadn’t been tempted by the chocolate fountain, but she suddenly realized she was _ravenous._

“You’re thinner,” Catra said softly as they stood in line behind Entrapta, who was happily babbling to Hordak about the astounding variety of tiny food on offer.

Adora blinked. “I am?”

Catra nodded. Her gaze felt like a spotlight.

“It wasn’t on purpose.” Adora cleared her throat to buy herself some time. She didn’t want to lie to Catra, but neither did she want to alarm her. “I… I’ve been going on a lot of long runs. Melog always comes with,” she added, hoping that detail would ease Catra’s worry.

Instead, her lips tightened. “Serafine said you didn’t have any personal emergencies.”

Of course, she’d asked Serafine. Another person might be angry at the breach in privacy, but Adora only felt a fluttering sensation of warmth in her chest. “I didn’t have any attacks.” She hoped Catra would leave it at that.

“But?” Her voice was hard.

Adora sighed. “But… day-to-day, the anxiety was worse than usual. So I started running more.”

“And eating less?” Catra pushed.

“Maybe, I guess. Again, not on purpose.”

Catra’s gaze softened. “Okay.” She brushed her thumbs across Adora’s cheeks, but by the time Adora tried to lean into the touch, it was gone. “Look… I’m sorry if I came on too strong, there.”

Catra’s swallow was visible, and even that brief evidence of her vulnerability made Adora want to enfold her in the most reassuring embrace the universe had ever witnessed. Instead, she settled for snagging two plates, then handing one over.

“You didn’t.”

When their fingers brushed, Catra’s mouth curved in a wicked smile. She leaned in close enough for her lips to brush the shell of Adora’s ear. Gooseflesh immediately cascaded down her arms.

“Eat up,” Catra murmured. “I am going to work you over tonight, princess. You’ll need your strength.”

Adora’s breath snarled in her throat, and she could tell her mouth was hanging open. She just couldn’t seem to shut it. “Ah,” she finally managed to croak.

Catra’s laughter was soft and smoky and _beyond_ sexy. Adora felt herself go liquid. She wanted to beg Catra to take her home, but Glimmer was their ride, and Glimmer had insisted they stay for the full duration of the ball.

 _Damn_ it.

*

“Has everyone’s food settled?” Scorpia rubbed her pincers together in delight. “I want to dance!”

Catra had to smile at her exuberance. Marriage and children had only amplified Scorpia’s most endearing qualities. That, and not being under the thumb of the Evil Horde. Idly, Catra ran her fingers along Adora’s thigh. Her dress was silk, smooth and cool, but the skin beneath was very warm. Catra heard the subtle shift in Adora’s breathing that indicated a resurgence of her arousal. She fought back a grin. Adora’s buttons had always been easy to push, but tonight she was on a hair trigger.

On her other side, Glimmer was turning toward Bow. “You do realize this will be our very first dance at a princess prom?”

“Oooh,” Frosta murmured as Bow blushed. Across the table, Perfuma suddenly looked uncomfortable.

Glimmer rolled her eyes. “And that’s entirely _my_ fault. I was completely neurotic last time. So: may I have this dance, Bow?”

His smile was brilliant. “Of course,” he said simply, and kissed her.

A chorus of “Awws” and a smattering of claps greeted this display. Catra wanted to tease Glimmer for being such a sap, but she also didn’t want to call any attention to herself while people were actively remembering what had happened ten years ago. Instead, she kept her mouth shut and followed suit when everyone vacated the table. She maintained a tight grip on Adora’s hand as Scorpia ascended the dais.

“It is my solemn duty as hostess to announce—” she began, and a hush fell over the room, “—it’s time for the first dance of the ball!”

Catra remembered the stampede toward the dance floor from Frosta’s ball, and she curled her tail around Adora’s hips as extra insurance. Adora blinked at her.

“Should I be inferring that you want to dance with me?”

“I _want,_ ” Catra grinned, baring her fangs. “Dancing will do, for now.”

Adora’s gulp was audible. “O-okay.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, princess.” Quirking one eyebrow, Catra held out her free hand. When Adora slid their palms together, Catra spun them out onto the dance floor. The light sound of Adora’s laughter trailed behind them like bells. Ninety-eight days. Fourteen weeks. None of that mattered. Nothing mattered except Adora, laughing, in her arms.

The first number was a pavane, which Catra despised. The dance confined them to slow, stately movements, their palms the only point of contact.

“This is torture,” she muttered.

“ _You_ think it’s torture?” Adora groused.

Catra’s ears perked, and her pulse accelerated. The dance might not be exciting, but Adora’s frustration certainly was. “Oh? Are you feeling hot and bothered?”

“You started it in the buffet line.”

“ _You_ started it with that kiss, A-dor-a.”

They turned to face each other and switched hands, then spun in a slow circle before reversing direction. “Technically, you started it when you kissed me in the Heart.”

Catra scoffed. “ _Technically,_ you started it when you found me in that box and convinced Shadow Weaver to let you keep me.”

Adora grimaced. “If I’d known then how badly she would go on to treat you, I wouldn’t have insisted.”

“Don’t be dense. If you hadn’t, some flunky would’ve been ordered to take me out behind the forge and shoot me.”

“Don’t _say_ things like that!” Adora exclaimed, loudly enough to draw confused looks from Spinny and Netossa, who were dancing nearby.

“Nothing to see here,” Catra called breezily. “Just revisiting childhood trauma.”

Spinny looked sympathetic. Netossa rolled her eyes. Thankfully, the pavane ended, and the bright strains of a waltz filled the room. Still not as good as one of those slow dances, but a _vast_ improvement. Catra leaned in close as she wrapped one arm around Adora’s back.

“You rescued me. I’m not afraid to say it anymore.”

“We rescued each other.”

“Yeah.” Catra brushed a too-quick kiss across Adora’s lips as she raised her free hand. “I guess we did.”

They danced and danced. Around them, everyone else swapped partners multiple times. When Catra saw Glimmer struggling to help Scorpia find even a modicum of rhythm during a particularly energetic foxtrot, she had to laugh. Mostly, she was relieved that no one had dared to try cutting in on them tonight. The answer would have been a snarling _no._ Even the _thought_ of Adora dancing with someone else made Catra want to lash out. She focused instead on the sensation of Adora, lithe and strong and warm in her arms as they held each other, rocking back and forth to the first slow dance of the evening.

“What?” Adora asked, raising her head from where it had been resting on Catra’s shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“Your grip just got tighter. Not,” she added, “that I’m complaining.”

Catra brushed Adora’s cheek with her own. “I was thinking about how glad I am that no one cut in on us tonight.”

Adora snorted. “They probably wanted to keep all their limbs.”

Catra pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “Are you implying I’ve been acting possessive?”

“Yes.” Eyes twinkling, Adora leaned in to touch her nose to Catra’s. “And I love it.”

Catra knew this. They had talked about it many times. No, Adora didn’t want her to be a jerk, as she had been when she lashed out at Lonnie all those years ago. But as long as she didn’t attack anyone, her possessiveness was sexy. Tonight would have been a real test of those boundaries, and she was glad their friends had sensed that.

Meanwhile, Adora was radiating smugness at Catra’s distraction, and that simply would not do. Subtly, Catra tugged at the small hairs on the back of Adora’s neck. The smugness disappeared, only to be replaced a hazy, needy expression. Much better.

“You think you love it now?” Catra murmured. She tugged again, more sharply this time. Adora bit down on her lower lip and exhaled shakily. “You’re going to love it even more once we’re finally alone.”

Adora licked her lips. “Catra.”

“Hmm?” This time, Catra didn’t tug. She pulled slowly, watching Adora’s eyes glaze over as she incrementally increased the pressure.

“Now,” Adora whispered, and Catra felt the full-body shiver that accompanied the word. “I need you now.”

Now. Was it really possible? Catra looked around the room. Scorpia and Perfuma were still dancing, but many of their friends had returned to the table. Sea Hawk appeared to be attempting a keg stand in the far corner, while Frosta egged him on and Mermista pretended not to find his idiocy attractive. The ballroom was markedly less crowded than it had been an hour ago. A fair number of people had already left. Didn’t that mean they could, too, without incurring any hurt feelings?

“Let’s find Glimmer,” Catra said, and Adora sagged against her in relief.

On the way, they stopped to say good-bye to Scorpia and left the encounter crowned with flower-wreathes. Catra grimaced as soon as her back was to Perfuma.

“Don’t you dare take that off until we’re gone,” Adora said.

“I _know,”_ Catra growled. “But it’s ruining my aesthetic.”

“So you say. I find it sexy.”

Catra shot her an incredulous look. “Your judgement is compromised.” Finally, she caught sight of Glimmer, who was standing next to Spinnerella. They were both watching a darts match between Bow and Netossa with avid fascination. Netossa looked grim, which meant she was losing. “Sparkles!”

Glimmer turned, one hand on her hip. “Ah ha. Honestly, you lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“That’s what she said?” Adora grinned hopefully.

Bow looked over his shoulder. “Hey, that wasn’t bad!”

“It was pretty bad,” Netossa muttered.

Catra cleared her throat. “Good _night,_ everyone.” She took Adora’s hand, then held out the other to Glimmer. “If you’re finished giving us a hard time?”

“For tonight, anyway.” The world spun, then resolved into the corridor outside their room in the palace.

“Thanks, Glimmer,” Adora said.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Glimmer crossed her arms, eyes glinting. “So, I was thinking we should all get together for a _really_ early breakfast tomorrow. What do you say?”

Catra bared her teeth. “I’m not even dignifying that with a response.” As she pushed open the door and pulled Adora behind her, they left Glimmer’s laughter behind. The sound of the lock engaging was so very sweet. _Finally._ After ninety-eight goddamn days, they were _finally_ alone together. Catra leaned against the back of the door, watching as Adora toed off her shoes with a small sigh.

“Serafine, you remember what we talked about earlier?”

“Of course, Commander. I am incapable of forgetting.”

“Better you than me. ‘Night.”

“Good night, Commander.”

Adora looked at her quizzically. “What was that all about?”

“We’re at level Delta. No disruptions unless it’s the apocalypse.” Every cell in Catra’s body was thrumming, but she made herself wait. They didn’t have to rush. She wanted to savor every moment of this reunion.

Adora laughed. “Even if the apocalypse happens, I don’t think you have to worry.”

The longer Catra held herself motionless, the faster her heart began to race. Adora was standing still, hands at her sides, watching her in return. Her waiting was a silent acknowledgment that Catra was in charge. Adora’s submissiveness wasn’t new, but it never ceased to thrill her.

“Oh? Why is that?” Catra allowed the anticipation to build for a few more seconds before she began to move, prowling forward slowly.

“We saved the planet with just a kiss last time,” Adora was watching her avidly, and her voice had gone just a bit breathless. “If we’re already making love, I don’t think the world _can_ end.”

Catra snorted. “That’s a hypothesis I hope never to test.” She stopped an arm’s length away, then paced in a tight circle, admiring the fit of her gown. The open back revealed the flare of Adora’s shoulder blades, sharp against her pale skin. Catra stretched out one finger, claw fully extended, to trace the length of Adora’s spine.

“How—” Adora’s breath hitched—“will you even know if it’s _being_ tested?”

“Adora?”

“Mm?”

“Shut up.” Catra moved quickly, wrapping one arm around Adora’s waist and pressing her other hand to the smooth skin of her sternum. She spun them to face the mirror, watching as the telltale flush spread down Adora’s neck. Slowly, she raised her hand to meet it, closing her fingers lightly around Adora’s throat. Adora went limp in her arms, eyelids fluttering. This was a familiar reaction, but it never failed to inspire awe.

“Tell me what you’re feeling right now,” she demanded quietly.

Adora struggled to open her eyes. “Love,” she said, smiling dreamily. “Relief.”

Catra couldn’t imagine feeling relief when someone had their hand wrapped around her neck, but the exhilaration singing through her was the flip-side of what Adora was experiencing. Not for the first time, Catra wondered how on Etheria they were so well matched. It almost made her believe in a higher power.

“You look delicious in this dress.” She flicked Adora’s earlobe lightly with her tongue, even as she stroked the contours of her throat.

“R-really?”

“Really. And you are _mine._ ” She bit down lightly.

Adora shivered. “I am.”

Catra lowered her head and bit into the muscle between Adora’s neck and shoulder, smiling against her skin as Adora’s hips snapped forward. She sucked hard enough to bruise, then chose a new spot and did it all over again. By the time she had left two gorgeous marks on each side of her spine, Adora was gasping for air and writhing in her arms.

“Stand still,” Catra grated harshly. “Or I’ll stop.”

A quiet whimper greeted these words, but Adora obeyed. After sucking two more bruises into her skin, Catra let her hands fall away, leaving Adora leaning heavily against her. Adora made a small sound of protest, and her eyes flashed open, seeking Catra’s gaze in the mirror.

“Catra?”

“Don’t worry, princess. We’re just getting started.” When she began to toy with the straps of the dress, Adora hummed in approval.

“Love you,” she murmured.

“Yeah? Prove it.”

Adora’s gaze sharpened. “I want to. I want to so much.” Her voice was remarkably steady, but Catra could hear the jackhammer of her pulse and smell the aroma of her arousal.

“Beg me.”

When a soft gasp greeted this declaration, Catra smiled. Slowly, she pushed both straps down. Catra didn’t believe in perfection, but Adora’s breasts were as close as this world could get. Golden and pendulous, tipped with rosy nipples that made her mouth water, they silently pleaded for her attention. Gently, she cupped them in her hands, cradling their weight. She had missed this. So. Fucking. Much.

“Please.” Adora’s eyes were wide, her pupils blown.

When Catra slid two fingers up to stroke across both nipples simultaneously, Adora bit down hard on her bottom lip. Her hips twitched. On another night, Catra might have punished her for the infraction. Tonight, part of her needed to know just how difficult it was for Adora to control herself. Tightening her grip on Adora’s breasts, Catra bent to lick one of the beautiful bruises she had made. They were artwork, really.

“Please what?”

“Please, let me taste you!”

Catra pinched Adora’s nipples hard, then dropped her hands again. “Turn around.” Adora spun quickly, staggering a little. Her hopeful expression was everything Catra wanted. “Take off my jacket.”

Adora nodded, then slid her hands beneath the lapels. Even through the layer of the snowy white shirt, her touch was like a brand. As Adora slipped the material over her shoulders, Catra fought back a shiver. She stood firm until Adora reverently held the jacket in her hands.

“Hang it up.”

Breasts bobbing, Adora went to the closet. Catra backed slowly toward the couch, then sank into its embrace. Her knees felt more than a little wobbly, but Adora didn’t need to know that. She watched as Adora carefully arranged the jacket on a hanger, then turned to face her. Stubbornly, the dress clung to her torso. Half ravished, bruised and disheveled, she was the most beautiful thing Catra had ever seen.

“Come here.”

Adora crossed the room in long, quick strides, then sank to her knees. She knotted her fingers together, clearly resisting the urge to touch. In that moment, Catra fell in even more in love. How was that even _possible_?

“Unbutton my shirt.”

The alacrity with which Adora’s hands flew to her top button was highly gratifying. As she worked, Catra combed her fingers through Adora’s hair. When she pulled gently, Adora’s fingers trembled. Still, her focus never wavered.

“Take off my pants,” Catra said as the last button slipped free.

The most stunning smile illuminated Adora’s face. Eagerly, she reached for the buckle, and this time her fingers were sure. The sensation of her zipper being lowered made Catra want to groan, and she clenched her teeth against it. Adora hooked her fingers into the waistband, then paused. She looked up at Catra with a hopeful expression. Her eyes were blue, so blue, but fully human.

“Something you’d like, beautiful?” When she nodded, Catra arched one brow. “Tell me.”

“Please, will you lift your hips?”

She pretended to consider, then laced both hands behind her head. “All right, yeah.” Arching up, she held the position longer than she had to, watching how Adora’s gaze dropped first to her straining abdominals, then lower. When she settled back against the couch, Adora made quick work of the slacks. Then, she paused, glancing between them and Catra.

“Would… would you like me to hang these up, too?”

Just like that, Catra’s control snapped. “Fuck no. Come _here._ Now. _”_ She spread her legs wide, then reached up to grasp the back of Adora’s head.

Adora went willingly, smoothing her palms along Catra’s thighs. Inches from her sex, Adora paused. She held Catra’s gaze and licked her lips. “I missed you so much,” she whispered.

And then Adora’s mouth was on her, lips gently tracing the contours of her labia before her tongue dipped into Catra’s opening. Catra hissed at the pleasure arrowing through her, and Adora moaned in response. Slowly, _too_ slowly, that hot, dextrous tongue tongue worked its way up. The instinct to pull Adora down and fuck her mouth was nearly overwhelming, but Catra held herself back. She wanted to see what Adora would give.

When Adora reached her clit, a low groan escaped Catra’s lips. She relaxed her hand, sifting her fingers through the silky, golden strands, hips stuttering as Adora’s tongue licked across an extra sensitive spot.

“Good,” Catra murmured. “So good for me.”

When Adora hummed against her, Catra smiled. _Good_ was a wholly inadequate word to describe Adora, but it was a word she craved. All her life, Adora had wanted only to be good. But her own standards were impossible, and every time she failed to live up to them, she flagellated herself. The fact that Catra had the power to free her from that insidious self-doubt was nothing short of a miracle. She never, ever took it for granted.

When Adora swirled her tongue, electricity arced beneath Catra’s skin. Chest heaving, she fisted her hand in Adora’s hair and pulled her head up. Adora’s eyes were dark and hazy, and her lips were smeared with Catra’s wetness, and she blinked in dazed confusion as Catra bared her throat.

“Close,” Catra growled.

A wistful sigh escaped Adora’s lips. “Please?”

“Please what?”

“I want to feel you come. I need it. Catra… it’s all I could think about. Every night. While you were gone.”

Catra’s clit twitched, and in that moment, it was all she could do to hold back her orgasm. “Yeah?” she panted.

Adora nodded. “Please.”

“Show me,” Catra said hoarsely.

And Adora did. She funneled her lips around Catra’s clit, sucking hard even as her tongue fluttered across the tip, soft as a whisper. Blazing light seared the backs of Catra’s eyes and she shouted Adora’s name, hips jerking wildly, shattering like light through a prism. Over and over and over.

As the sharpness of the pleasure eased, Catra forced her eyes open. Adora was looking up at her, lips still pressed between her legs, tongue warm and soft as she coaxed out the aftershocks. With a trembling hand, Catra stroked her face.

“Adora,” she whispered hoarsely. “I love you.”

Only then did Adora pull away. Her lips and chin were shining with Catra’s come, but she made no move to wipe off the slick. “I love you, too,” she said.

“I missed you,” Catra persisted. “Every fucking second.”

Adora smiled, then. She laid her cheek against Catra’s thigh and slid her arms around Catra’s waist. “Let’s not be apart again,” she murmured. “It’s not good.”

“No,” Catra agreed, her restlessness finally abating. “It’s not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Four (more smut!) might take me a while, but it will *absolutely* happen. Catra has promises to keep, after all.
> 
> And if you are waiting for an update to "Love Conquers All," I promise it is in the works! The day job has been a bit much recently. My apologies.


	4. Good For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In Catra’s absence, life had shifted into sepia tones, as though all the brightest colors had been leeched from the world. Maybe that wasn’t the healthiest mindset, but Adora didn’t care. It was the truth. She-Ra would always have a purpose; there would always be evil to fight and people to heal and heavy things to lift. But at the end of the day, when She-Ra was gone and Adora remained, Catra was her reason."
> 
> In which Catra takes her time reclaiming Adora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes mild, consensual sado-masochism.

Adora was wet, aching, and utterly content. Kneeling between Catra’s legs, cheek pressed to one thigh, she inhaled deeply and held on just a little tighter. This, _this_ was where she belonged. Here, no worry or self-doubt could reach her. Finally, after many long months, she could be at peace. 

In Catra’s absence, life had shifted into sepia tones, as though all the brightest colors had been leeched from the world. Maybe that wasn’t the healthiest mindset, but Adora didn’t care. It was the truth. She-Ra would always have a purpose; there would always be evil to fight and people to heal and heavy things to lift. But at the end of the day, when She-Ra was gone and Adora remained, Catra was her reason.

“It’s time to move this reunion to the bed.” Catra’s voice had a gravelly quality to it that only ever appeared after sex, and Adora soaked in every syllable. “Stand up now, princess.”

Adora stood, and when she wavered slightly, Catra’s hand was immediately on her waist. Adora’s knees were a little sore, but she relished the ache. Catra rose, then cupped her face and kissed her, gently but thoroughly. At the knowledge that Catra was tasting herself, Adora shivered.

Catra eased away just enough to meet her gaze. “You’re in a state tonight, aren’t you?” she murmured.

Adora nodded, a renewed blush rising to her cheeks. She felt unaccountably shy. Finding it suddenly impossible to meet Catra’s gaze, she looked down at her feet.

“Hey.” Catra wrapped both arms around her waist and pressed her forehead to Adora’s. “Talk to me.”

Adora swallowed hard. The words clogging her throat felt wrong, even though she knew Catra would tell her they weren’t. “I need you,” she finally managed. “It… it’s been so long.”

“Ah, love.” Catra’s hands stroked up her spine. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” 

A burst of shame twisted Adora’s stomach. “No—that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to be sorry. I know you had to go. I hate feeling this… this selfish.”

Catra’s hands returned to her face, then, and they were firmer this time. She tugged until Adora had no choice but to look into her eyes—those beautiful, distinctive eyes that now bored into hers with an intensity that made Adora want to melt.

“Yes, I had to go. I didn’t _want_ to, and I hated being apart from you. It’s not selfish to want to be together, Adora. We’re better that way. We always have been, and we always will be.”

“You’re right.” That much, Adora really did believe. Seven years ago, Catra’s love had saved her—and by extension, the universe. Each morning since, Adora woke to the knowledge that together, they had made this brand new day possible. 

“Of course I’m right. Idiot.” But Catra’s smile was soft around the edges, and she raised one hand to gently comb her fingers through Adora’s hair. “Now, tell me. Is there anything you _don’t_ want tonight?”

Adora’s first instinct was to say _No,_ but over the years, she had learned to stop and think. She wasn’t always as in tune with her own needs as she should be, and the pause was an important tool. Catra was patient, stroking her gently as she waited. 

“I just want to feel you,” Adora said finally. “I’ve imagined this so much, in so many ways—how it would be when you came home. I want to know you’re really here, not a… a figment of my imagination.”

At that, Catra’s eyes darkened. Her fingers in Adora’s hair grew firmer, tugging slightly. “Oh, princess.” The words emerged as a low growl. “You’ll know. I am going to make you feel _everything._ ”

When Adora shivered again, Catra pulled her head back and latched on to her pulse point, fangs grazing the skin as she sucked hard. Adora’s arousal, which had been simmering as they talked, returned in a rush, flooding through her. When she gasped, she felt Catra smile against her neck. A moment later, Catra’s hands were on her waist, pushing her toward the bed. Hunger and amusement glinted in her eyes.

“Looks like you’ll be wearing high-collared shirts for a few days,” she said with a wicked grin. “Because you are absolutely _not_ healing all these delicious bruises I worked so hard to give you.” Catra paused, one eyebrow arched. “Understand?” 

“Yes.” Adora’s pulse increased at the order, even as the rest of the world seemed to slow. Her body was heavy with desire, yet also weightless. Comfort rolled through her as the circle of Catra’s arms became her entire universe. This—this was the feeling she craved, the feeling she had missed for so long. 

“Let’s get you out of this dress.” Catra rested her hands briefly on Adora’s shoulders before slowly sliding down. When she cupped Adora’s breasts, Adora swayed, eyelids fluttering. “Have I told you how much I love these?” 

Adora’s tongue felt thick in her mouth. “Not… lately,” she managed.

“So beautiful.” Catra squeezed gently. “Feeling floaty already?” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Good.” Catra lightly stroked both thumbs across her nipples, sending tiny sparks of pleasure skittering down her spine. “You deserve this, Adora. I’m going to make you feel so good, and you deserve all of it. All of it and more.”

Catra’s words were themselves caresses, soothing away the last lingering tendrils of anxiety. As she spoke, Catra slowly pulled down her dress. The slide of silk over her sensitized skin felt decadent, and Adora’s next breath emerged on a moan. Catra, down on one knee now as she slipped the fabric over her hips, bared her fangs possessively. Then, the dress was a puddle on the floor, and then Catra was hooking her fingertips in the waistband of Adora’s underwear, and then she was nude.

Catra stood, shedding her shirt. As she moved toward the bed, Adora stayed still, appreciating _everything_ : the sensual curves of Catra’s breasts as she bent to roll back the sheets, the coiled strength in her arms, the light coat of fur covering the apex of her thighs. Adora’s mouth watered. Already, she craved the taste of Catra again—the certainty of bringing her pleasure.

Catra pointed to the bed. “I want you on your back. To start.”

 _To start._ The words made her mouth dry. They meant Catra was planning to draw this out. She had as much as promised it, earlier, but the confirmation was a relief. If she were being honest, Adora didn’t want this to be over quickly. She wanted Catra to take her time, until she lost all sense of it whatsoever. The sheets were cool against her burning skin as she lay down, head propped just enough on the pillow to allow her line-of-sight to Catra. For a long moment, her lashing tail was the only part of her that moved. Then, with a pounce, Catra was crouched over her.

“Look at you. So damn beautiful, and all _mine.”_ Catra smirked down at her. “Do you even realize what you’ve done with your hands?” 

Only then did Adora become aware that she had instinctively offered herself up to Catra, palms open and bracketing her pillow. A fresh blush rose to her cheeks, and she raised her arms to twine around Catra’s neck. Instead, Catra caught her wrists in a firm grip.

“Did I say you could move them?” Shaking her head, Catra guided her hands to the wooden rungs of the headboard. “Keep them here, princess. If you let go, I’ll stop.”

The threat of Catra _stopping_ pierced through the soothing haze in Adora’s mind. She blinked hard, trying to focus, and clutched at the rungs. “ _Please_ don’t stop.”

Catra’s expression softened, and she brushed her knuckles across Adora’s cheek. “I’m going to take care of you. You just focus on being good for me. No letting go, and no chasing orgasms, either. In fact, you are going to hold back the first one as long as you can.”

Adora heard herself whimper at the dark note of command in Catra’s voice. She was so wet, and her body was on fire with need. _How_ was she supposed to control herself? But Catra smiled at the sound, and as Adora watched, she slowly unsheathed the claws on her left hand. The mere sight of them made Adora feel dizzy. Oh, how she wanted them on her skin—scoring her, marking her, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

“ _Breathe,_ Adora,” Catra said sternly. 

When Adora sucked in a shuddering breath, Catra rewarded her by trailing her claws along one side of her neck, not remotely hard enough to scratch. As Adora focused on maintaining deep and even breaths, Catra’s touch moved lower, sweeping across her sternum, then down into the valley between her breasts. Slowly, Adora relaxed into the caresses, never breaking contact with Catra’s gaze—not even when the fingers of her free hand pinched lightly at one nipple.

“If anything is too much, tell me.” Catra’s voice was low and soothing. “I want you to feel good.”

Adora nodded, feeling only anticipation. She knew Catra would never hurt her in a way she didn’t want. 

Slowly, Catra began to twist. Simultaneously, the pressure of her claws increased as she dragged her fingertips down along the length of Adora’s ribcage. The pain was exquisite, and Adora’s eyes slammed shut as she cried out. The room fell away. The bed fell away. There was only Catra’s loving, searing touch, sending her deeper and deeper into that glorious place where no fear or anxiety could ever follow.

When Catra finally lifted her hands away, Adora writhed against the sheets, struggling to open her eyes. More. She needed more. A moment later, Catra’s palm was pressed to her waist, holding her still, and one claw skimmed the skin of her neglected breast, circling in a decreasing spiral. Adora finally forced her eyelids open just as Catra pricked her nipple, barely indenting the hardened, rose-red tip. The sharp pressure made her want to thrust her hips into the air, but Catra’s hand held her down, immobile. The realization sent another rush of arousal through her, and Catra breathed in deeply, smiling.

“I love you like this, _submitting_ to me. And you love it, too. Because you are _mine._ ”

“Yes,” Adora whispered, licking dry lips. “Yours.” 

Catra shifted to kneel between her legs, sweeping both hands down to push at Adora’s thighs, spreading her open. “So beautiful, splayed out for me like this.” Catra cocked her head. “Did you follow the rules, Adora?”

Adora felt herself clench, knew Catra could see it. She had to swallow twice before she could speak. “Y-yes.”

“Mm. Good girl.” Catra slid further down, until Adora felt her warm breaths across the tip of her aching clitoris. “Was it hard to come without going inside?” 

Before Adora could respond, Catra’s tongue flicked out, making only the briefest contact. Adora shuddered and felt herself grow even wetter. She moaned.

“I asked you a question, Adora.” For an instant, Catra’s claws were back, digging into her thighs. Then, they were gone.

“Oh!” Adora clung to the headboard as her body clenched down on nothing. “Yes. Catra, please…”

“Tell me. Were there times you touched yourself and you couldn’t come?” 

“Y-yes,” Adora said brokenly as Catra held her hips still.

Catra leaned in, barely brushing her lips across Adora’s clit. “I’m here, now. And you’re going to come many, many times. But not quite yet.”

Adora cried out as Catra kissed her sex like she kissed her mouth—slow and wet. As her tongue swirled and danced, sparks flickered behind Adora’s eyes. When Catra sucked at her lightly, a full-body shudder seized Adora. She was already on the edge. If Catra would only fuck her, _finally,_ this exquisite torment would end.

“I know you want me inside.” Catra replaced her tongue with her thumb as she spoke, pressing lightly. “But I’m not giving you that yet. Remember—hold back as long as you can.”

Her mouth returned, more firmly this time. All the sensations blended together, until the only word Adora knew was _please._ Catra’s tongue was inexorable, and as the glorious pressure built, Adora felt the last shreds of her control burning away.

“I can’t. Catra, I can’t. I have to—oh please, please, _please_ —”

Adora sobbed when Catra lifted her mouth away. “Shh, love. It’s time. Let go for me.”

And then Catra was sucking her hard, tongue circling—and reality shattered into light and heat and _magic_ , just as it had at the origin of the universe. Dimly, Adora heard herself scream as ecstasy flooded through her, carrying her away.

*

Catra’s heart was threatening to burst its way out of her chest. So much—she had missed this so, so damn much. She _needed_ this in a way that was as essential as breathing: Adora beneath her, surrendering to her, vulnerable and trusting.

As Adora’s body began to quiet, the glow of her passion abating, Catra lined up one finger with her entrance. She had made the rule on a whim, never expecting her mission would take so long. Adora _craved_ being fucked, and for almost one hundred days, she had denied herself—just because Catra had ordered her to. The knowledge was heady.

“Again,” Catra demanded, and pushed.

Adora was hot and wet and tight, and Catra didn’t stop until she was fully buried inside. Adora’s keen of pleasure was music to her ears. When Catra began to lick her in earnest, Adora clamped down on her finger, silken walls quivering. With reluctance, Catra tore her mouth away.

“No more holding back. Just relax, and let it happen. I’ve got you.”

Beyond words, Adora could only whimper. The sound inflamed every feral impulse in Catra’s body, urging her to _take._ Even so, she made her touch gentle, curling her finger in the way she knew would drive Adora wild as she fluttered her tongue against her rapidly hardening clitoris. When Adora bucked into the kiss, she shifted her free arm, pressing down on Adora’s hips to hold her still.

Even the semblance of restraint was enough to push Adora over the edge. Catra slit her eyes against the radiance as Adora’s second orgasm swept through her. Was there anything more perfect than the sensation of Adora’s internal muscles fluttering around her finger? As Catra pressed her forehead to Adora’s abdomen, breathing in the aroma of her pleasure, she doubted it. 

Catra withdrew slowly. Adora’s eyes fluttered open, dark and hazy. She was deep in subspace now, and Catra wanted to keep her there for as long as she could. Once she was certain Adora’s gaze had focused on her, Catra sucked her glistening finger into her mouth. She hadn’t thought Adora’s pupils could become more dilated. She was wrong.

“Mm. You taste so good, princess. And we are _so_ not done. Let go of the headboard and turn over for me.”

Adora blinked up at her for several seconds before regaining enough control over her body to heed Catra’s command. As she turned onto her stomach, Catra pulled the pillow away, then directed Adora’s hands to the rest on either side of her head. Tenderly, she ran one hand across Adora’s shoulders. Never, ever would she take this for granted.

“Hold onto the sheet if you need to. And remember: tell me if it’s too much.”

Adora only sighed and shifted restlessly against the mattress. Catra’s smile caught on one fang as a renewed burst of _want_ arrowed through her. She let one palm rest against the nape of Adora’s neck, claws resting against her skin. With her other hand, she pushed Adora’s right leg up and out, granting her easy access. Adora’s folds were swollen and red and wet, and Catra swallowed hard when she twitched and softly moaned.

Dipping two fingers just barely inside, Catra focused on the pressure of her claws against Adora’s skin. Slowly, she drew her hand down, drawing five fiery red lines along the length of Adora’s back while pushing _in._ This time, Adora’s scream was muffled by the sheets. Her body fought Catra’s intrusion, closing down hard around her inexorable thrust, but Catra maintained the pressure until she was as deep as she could get. As Adora gasped and twitched beneath her, Catra fluttered her fingers gently. Only after Adora quieted did she slide her free arm beneath Adora’s body, pulling her back and up until she was on her knees. Leaning forward, Catra nipped at the shell of Adora’s ear.

“I’m going to fuck you now. Hard. And you’re going to take it for me, aren’t you?” 

When Adora shivered in her arms, triumph sang through Catra. Gently, she stroked Adora’s breasts, peppering her back with kisses. Then, without warning, she crossed her fingers deep inside the embrace of Adora’s body and _twisted._ Adora’s sharp cry was accompanied by the sharp pulse of her inner muscles, and Catra did it again, and again, until Adora was gasping her name with every thrust. Only then did she bring her other hand down to Adora’s clit, gathering up her wetness and swirling her fingers faster and faster and faster, until Adora shouted wordlessly and collapsed, trembling.

Catra covered her body, keeping one hand gently pressed between her legs while the aftershocks rippled through her. As her own harsh breaths began to even out, Catra skimmed her lips down the red lines scoring the pale skin of Adora’s back. Adora clenched once more around her, then finally relaxed.

It was easy to pull out, but Catra still withdrew slowly. Afterward, she lay against Adora’s back and coaxed her into spooning, nuzzling her neck and pressing light kisses against her ear. Adora was boneless, her breaths slow and even, and Catra’s chest ached with a mixture of love and protectiveness. She slid one of her own legs between Adora’s, needing as much contact as possible. As a low purr welled up in Catra’s throat, she closed her eyes in relief. She hadn’t even _wanted_ to purr since leaving Etheria.

“I love you,” she murmured. “I love you more than anything. More than _everything._ ”

Adora made a wordless noise of assent and snuggled closer. Catra pressed sleepy, languid kisses to her shoulders and nape until Adora finally shifted in her arms. Her hazy blue eyes were framed by lashes tipped with gold, and Catra didn’t even try to stop herself from kissing the tip of Adora’s nose.

“Are you okay? That was… pretty intense.”

“That was _amazing.”_ Adora’s open smile was radiant. “You’re amazing. Beyond amazing. You are _perfect._ ”

Catra looked away. “I’m far from perfect, Adora.”

Adora reached up to stroke her hair until Catra dared to meet her gaze again. “You’re perfect for me.”

It was the way she said it—earnestly, almost pleading—that made Catra fall in love all over again. She bridged the space between them, pressing their lips together in a kiss that, once it was happening, reminded her of their very first.

“No more missions apart,” Adora said when it was over. 

Catra pulled her close, burying her face in Adora’s hair, Adora’s breaths slow and even against her neck. “You’ll have no arguments from me, princess.”

Entwined together, they drifted off into sleep as the moons of Etheria rose and set around them, bright against the backdrop of stars.


End file.
